


Unusually Hard To Hold On To

by lovethatwewerein



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovethatwewerein/pseuds/lovethatwewerein
Summary: Sebastian’s always been a proud man. He held his head high and his back straight and walked with confidence. His father had drilled it into him from a young age - that he was a Smythe, that it made him better than everyone around him - and he’s carried that through his childhood and his teenage years, carried it on his shoulders without anyone being able to knock it down.Until Blaine Anderson, that is.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	Unusually Hard To Hold On To

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from 'Love Song' by Sara Bareilles 
> 
> Inspired by [This Post](https://seblaineaddict.tumblr.com/post/627464901333516288/one-time-i-dreamt-that-blaine-was-my-friend-and-he)

Sebastian’s always been a proud man. He held his head high and his back straight and walked with confidence. His father had drilled it into him from a young age - that he was a Smythe, that it made him better than everyone around him - and he’s carried that through his childhood and his teenage years, carried it on his shoulders without anyone being able to knock it down. 

Until Blaine Anderson, that is. 

Blaine couldn’t have been all that. The Warblers spoke about him like he was some kind of god or deity or angel, like he’d planted the stars in the sky purely to shine down on the sky above Dalton. They exaggerated, told tall tales of the boy that no one sane would believe. Or, he thought they had. He was sure that they had been wrong, that Blaine Anderson wasn’t as great as they claimed. 

They weren’t. 

Blaine Anderson was the definition of talent. He was a ball of sunshine and sass and all the things Sebastian had ever found attractive in a compact passage. And, unsurprising as it was that he was taken, seemed to take every compliment Sebastian offered him with a blush and a smile. 

There were some strange parts of his character - the modesty, the public school, the bow ties - that frustrated more than endeared. It was as if he didn’t know how impressive he was, how attractive he could be with his hair lose and his top button undone (not that he wasn’t already). Sebastian wanted nothing more than to explain it to him, with his hands and his mouth. But Blaine was loyal to a fault, especially to a boy that didn’t deserve him in the slightest. 

He catches him at a Warbler party, his brain hazy from drinking since early evening. Nick had asked him to help set up, to buy enough alcohol with the money everyone had handed over during the course of the week, so he’d bought enough drink to last the night and got to drinking it. 

Blaine showed up later than most of the other boys, waving from the doorway when everyone threw him a smile. Trent had handed him a drink as soon as he’d closed the door, refusing to accept his polite refusal. He’d watched as the boy down his first drink in the kitchen, swallowing quickly and laughing when Jeff slapped him on the back with pride. 

It hadn’t taken long after that for Blaine to move well into inebriation. 

He finds Blaine’s bow tie in his pocket getting into his car the next day, the material bunched up uncomfortably. He’s quick to shove it in the back of his glove box, letting it get lost amongst the dozen discs he keeps in there. 

*

The breakup is big news on the Warbler group chat. Nick hears about it first, catching word of it from Wes when he visits him and David in New Haven. He can’t say he’s truly surprised, that he didn’t anticipate Kurt inevitably losing Blaine because of his own selfish needs. But Jeff explains how torn up Blaine is over it, that he’s reached out to his parents in Ohio about going home for a while, and he feels immensely guilty about the joy he’d had coursing through his veins at the news. 

*

It’s a couple of months before they find out that Blaine’s landed a job at Dalton, that they created a position on the staff for him to coach the Warblers. It doesn’t shock him, the introduction of a new job just for their golden boy. Blaine’s always had a special place at the school and it makes sense that they’d want to win him over a second time. 

He chooses to make the trip back to Ohio over Thanksgiving, telling his father that he has urgent business to attend to in Westerville during that week. It’s not completely true. It matters, checking up on Blaine despite their differences over the past couple of years, for the sake of himself and the other Warblers. Mostly himself. 

Blaine’s not at home when he knocks on the door. His mother answers instead, smiling confusedly at him when he asks where he can find her son. He doesn’t expect her to say he’s at work, that he’s taken it upon himself to make Thanksgiving better for the students that couldn’t go home for the holidays. 

He finds the boy sitting in the cafeteria with one of the students, his hair looser than Sebastian could ever recall seeing it in their short-lived friendship. He looks obscenely pretty in the lighting, in the passion he’s found in the halls a second time, and it stops Sebastian in his tracks. 

They aren’t really friends anymore - barely friendly, if he’s honest. Anyone else would be better for checking in, for seeing how Blaine’s adjusted to Kurt dropping him like last season’s fashion, for testing the waters. But he wants to do this, needs to do it. 

“Sebastian?”

He looks up at his name, meeting Blaine’s eyes with very little preparation. For all he’s claimed to be okay, he’s never been happy with what he did, how he hurt the man in front of him in a fit of jealous rage. But Blaine’s smiling at him, his eyes shining as he bids the student goodbye. Sebastian slips into the empty chair, waiting for the words to come to him. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m home for the holidays,” he tries, because confessing that Blaine’s still a weakness isn’t something he wants to do. “Thought I would see how you’re doing.” 

Blaine huffs out a laugh, letting his gaze fall to the table between them. It’s almost identical to their first real conversation, to his first attempt at flirting with the most attractive person in Ohio, except tensions are higher and there’s a history there that he wishes he could hide away. “Because of the break-up?” 

“Because you got a job that doesn’t exist.” 

Blaine really laughs at that, something deep and happy that causes Sebastian’s heart to flutter. It’s disconcerting to still have such a visceral reaction to such a simple sound. He’s lived in the city, been around dozens of boys looking to experiment with someone that knows how to make it good, come so close to finding his place in the world. But Blaine hadn’t been there, he hadn’t been laughing at something snarky or willing him to stop flirting, and that makes all the difference. 

“I’m really glad they let me work here,” Blaine admits, nodding gently when Sebastian raises an eyebrow. “Considering the whole lack of a degree and everything. You’d think hiring standards would be a bit higher.” 

“I think if they wanted you so badly, their standards must have been the highest they could get.” 

He can see the blush climbing up Blaine’s neck, up his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He hates how much he loves it. 

“Didn’t realise you could be so kind, Smythe.” 

“Only happens once in a blue moon so don’t get used to it.” 

“Do you want a coffee? I’ll buy.” Blaine offers, standing up with his own cup. When he’s sure Blaine can’t see him, he slips his phone out of his pocket, sending a quick message to the group chat to let them know he was in Ohio, that Blaine was actually doing pretty damn well. 

Placing a cup down in front of him, Blaine sits back down in his chair, fiddling with the corners of his bowtie. “I wasn’t sure what to get you so I settled on a latte. Thought it would be the safest bet.” 

“It was a good guess, killer. Don’t worry about it.” 

They pass the time talking about the Warblers, about being back in Ohio, about college. Blaine goes really quiet when they start talking about school, drifting off in the middle of his sentence until his words are nothing. 

“What happened, Blaine?” He asks when everything goes silent. Blaine hesitates, fiddling with the rim of his cup. “You were never supposed to end up back here.” 

“Everything with Kurt just happened and I… I fell apart,” Blaine explains, choking on the words as he says them. He has to stop himself reaching out. “I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I couldn’t pull my weight in school and I just felt like I was taking up too much space. Like I wasn’t supposed to be in New York any longer.” 

“You aren’t supposed to be in Ohio either.” 

“That’s the thing. I started working here and things just fell into place again. Suddenly, I had a purpose,” Blaine shrugs, eyes glistening with tears that probably haven’t fallen in weeks. “These kids - they mean the world to me now. They’re all so talented, Sebastian, and they all believe in me as their coach.”

“Of course they do. You’re the single most talented person I’ve ever met. And I am including myself in that.” 

Blaine laughs, the sound verging on bitter through the sobs threatening to burst. “You always did like to think me better than I am.” 

“Have you ever known me to lie?”

“No,” Blaine says, wiping the back of his hand against his cheek where the first tear has started to fall. “You always preferred honesty to making people feel good about themselves. I still remember Trent calling me in tears once after Warbler practice.” 

“It’s easy when honesty and making a person feel good about themselves goes hand in hand.” 

“A few months away from Ohio and you’ve become a complete sap.” 

“Might be the freshness of the country air,” he shrugs, feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck. “Don’t get enough of it while I’m off at uni.” 

“Well, I like this version of you,” Blaine smiles, standing and throwing his satchel over his shoulder. “And I’d really like to see you again before you leave.” 

“I can do dinner tomorrow night. Fancy it?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

He watches Blaine leave like a lovestruck teenager. It’s all sort of new to him, the butterflies loose in his body, the thumping of blood in his veins, the blush at Blaine’s reception of his flirting. It’s new but, for once in his life, he doesn’t hate the emotions attached to the situation. 

*

Blaine texts him the address of a nearby restaurant early the next morning, ranting about the variety of their menu and how polite all the staff are. It’s nice, having someone that wants to rave about something so trivial at 9am. Everyone he’s known has had too much decorum for that, has been too busy with being a serious person to send twenty messages in a row about chicken alfredo. 

Just to save them both on time, he dials Blaine’s number instead. The other man picks up after the second ring. “Was I annoying you? I’m really sorry. I’ll stop, I swear.” 

“Blaine, no. I just can’t read them while I’m getting dressed.” 

“So you didn’t mind?” 

“Not in the slightest,” he replies, tugging his belt through the loops of his trousers. “I didn’t realise any one man could have such love for a pasta dish.” 

“It’s one of the greatest things on earth,” Blaine insists and Sebastian can hear his smile through the phone. “Along with Whitney Houston and golden retrievers.” 

“Golden retrievers?” 

“One of the prettiest dogs on the face of the planet, Smythe. If I ever got a dog, I would get a golden retriever and I would name him Nugget.” 

“Are you serious? Nugget?” 

“Yeah,” Blaine says, laughing into the phone. “Like a golden nugget.” 

“You’re such a dork.” 

“And I’m still cooler than you will ever be.” 

He shakes his head, burying his laughs in the sleeves of his shirt. He doesn’t know if his dad is downstairs but, on the off-chance that he is, he doesn’t want to risk being caught like this. Not that he really knows what this is. “Keep dreaming, Anderson.” 

Blaine hangs up a few minutes later, telling him that he’ll meet him at eight outside the restaurant. He takes a moment to collect himself, to gather his thoughts and push all ideas of Blaine and children out of his mind. His father raises a brow at him when he enters the kitchen but doesn’t say anything. He’s grateful for that at least.

*

Blaine’s standing outside the restaurant when he arrives, leaning against the wall and moving his eyes up and down the street. It’s cute, a quaint place hidden between a record shop and the local library. The exterior is this dark blue with the sign painted a light grey that works extraordinarily well. There’s one large window, right beside the door, that gives passers-by a great view into the restaurant without taking too much privacy from the customers inside. 

Really, it screams Blaine, and he instantly falls in love with it. 

“Hey, you made it.” Blaine greets him when he crosses the street, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat. Blaine’s wearing a hat and scarf combo that only sort of works together, the hat sitting crookedly on his head. He looks adorable. And happy. 

“I said I would, didn’t I?” 

“I suppose,” Blaine concedes, taking the hat off his head and messing up his hair in the process. He doesn’t bother to smooth it down. “But I’m grateful anyway.” 

It screams of something deeper, of dinners forgotten over things that don’t matter. Of being pushed into the background. Of being passed over time and time again. He hates that someone had been willing to overlook anyone as impressive as Blaine Anderson. That he was almost willing to overlook Blaine Anderson. 

They’re led to their table by a young woman he vaguely recognises, wonders whether she’s from Crawford or if he’s just seen her around. She’s polite, offering them drinks as soon as they sit down and, when Sebastian tries to flirt his way into a bottle of wine, she laughs at him. 

“Nice try, Smythe. Even you can’t fake your way into being legal.” 

And then he knows who she is. They only met once, Jeff begging him to go to a local concert with him when Nick had to back out last minute. The band had been his sister’s, a start-up that was surprisingly good, and he’d joined them after the show at Jeff’s house for a celebration. 

“You got drunk with me last year, Ellie.” 

“And I was not at my place of work at that time,” she argues, handing them a menu each. Blaine’s watching the conversation with interest. “So I’m not gonna risk losing my job because of you.” 

“Fine,” he sighs, giving her a weak high five when she raises her hand for one, the bitter agony of defeat settling over his shoulders. “I’ll have a cherry coke. Blaine?” 

Blaine snaps to attention immediately. “Just a lemonade please. Thank you.” 

She nods at him, telling them that she’ll be back in just a minute. He welcomes her absence, the chance it gives him to focus entirely on the man opposite him. Blaine’s staring at him like he’s a stranger, like he’s never seen him before. 

“Who is she?” 

There’s a hint of something under the surface that he can’t quite identify, something slightly twisted hidden under layers of smiles. 

“She’s in a band with Jeff’s sister,” he explains, setting his menu down so he can give Blaine the attention he deserves. “I went to see them in concert last year and we all got drunk afterwards. It was like a Warbler party except way gayer somehow.” 

“It was gayer than a Warbler party?” 

“So much gayer.” He shivers, memories of that night sliding down his back like slime. It was a good night, he can’t deny that, but he’d rather not remember some of what he walked in on. Or some of the things he did. They were not tasteful. 

“I honestly didn’t think that was possible.” 

“Nor did I until that point.” 

Ellie returns with their drinks, taking their food order before stealing their menus away with a smile. Blaine lets him steer the conversation, lets him guide them towards the safest topics he can come up with. 

The chicken alfredo is as delicious as Blaine claimed that morning and, even though he’s sure it would pair better with wine than the soft drinks they have, he wouldn’t change a thing. 

They split a brownie. It’s chocolatey and decadent and Blaine eats more of it but he doesn’t mind. It’s been incredibly easy to slip into this friendship again, into the parts of them that were always linked regardless of outside forces. He’s always thought that they could be amazing, that they could challenge all expectations. That they could make one another better men, the best of men. 

Or Blaine could make him a better man. Blaine was already flawless. 

When they leave the restaurant, he doesn’t want the evening to end. He doesn’t want to let go of the passion and infatuation he’s missed since they met. So he offers to drive Blaine home because it’s the only thing he has. 

“Have you got any CDs?” Blaine asks when the third radio station in a row plays the same song. Pointing at the glove compartment, he turns left at the end of the street. He hears Blaine digging around for a good mix and, when the shuffling stops, he lets his eyes slide over to where Blaine is holding a small bundle of fabric instead of a disc. 

“Is this my tie?” 

“What?” 

“My Dalton bow tie,” Blaine says, unbunching the material and smoothing it out on his thigh. “I lost this a couple years back. I looked for it everywhere.” 

“I forgot it was in there, honestly. Most of that night is hazy,” he admits, pulling over to the sidewalk near Blaine’s house. “I think I must’ve found it and just didn’t think to give it back.” 

“This… This was the last thing I ever got from my grandad. He died just after I started at Dalton and losing this - it… it broke me.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t remember it being in there,” he says, tripping over the words as he twists in his seat to face Blaine. “If I had, I would’ve given it back. In a heartbeat, Blaine.” 

“I know,” he can hear the crack in his voice, the influx of emotion fighting its way through Blaine’s body. “And I appreciate that. I really do.” 

Placing his hand on the other man’s thigh, he traces a finger over a crease in the material. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Blaine shakes his head, moving the tie onto the dash. “There is something I do want to do, though.” 

“What’s that?” 

“I really wanna kiss you.” 

“I think we can manage that.” 

And, with Blaine leaning in, his hair slightly loose where the night has worn on and his cheeks flushed prettily, Sebastian decides this is his favourite Thanksgiving break yet.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at love-that-we-were-in on tumblr


End file.
